Conceived in a cab Born in a cab
by DaftCat
Summary: Sherlock mpreg. His friends fear for both his medical and mental health as his condition progresses. Months later, just when things seem to be getting back under control, Sherlock gets stuck in a cab and goes into labour with only Mycroft with him for support. What will everyone think of the revealed father? Will anyone approve?
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock woke up, grimacing at the sunlight leaking into the room. He was sick of waking up to such headaches, he had never had them like this before.

"What" Sherlock croaked

"Um, sorry to call you at this time of the morning, but... we have another case for you"

It was Lestrade

"Where and when" Sherlock asked bluntly, hand clamped over his eyes to block out the light.

Lestrade gave Sherlock brief details of where to meet up and the case itself before hanging up.

Sherlock chucked the phone down the bed, before turning over, a decision he soon regretted. the room started to spin, even with his eyes closed he could feel his body whirling inside.

"John!... Aspirin!" Sherlock groaned. The Doctor was already awake and doing something in the kitchen, he couldn't sleep last night so he had decided to start the day.

"What again?" John had brought aspirin to Sherlock for the last three days and he was getting worried.

John let himself in Sherlock's room to find the detective sitting up, supporting his weight with one arm, the other hand rubbing his face gently.

"What's up with you? Here you go" John placed the pills into Sherlock's palm along with a glass of water. Sherlock gulped down the pills eagerly, before slumping back down into bed.

Sherlock had decided to ignore the intense queasiness he was also experiencing. "Er... thanks" Sherlock croaked.

John turned round to face him "Did you just say thanks to me?" John smirked

"Piss off" Sherlock moaned

"Alright alright, are you going to be ok to get up in a bit? Lestrade texted me" John waved his phone in the air

Sherlock was currently swallowing hard to hold back the vomit in his throat. He managed to hum to signal a 'yes'.

As soon as John had left the room, Sherlock leaned over the side of the bed and threw up onto the floor, choking for a moment on some bile. He groaned at the fact he was going to have to clean it up later. At least he was feeling better now it was up.

* * *

John followed Sherlock into the old school building. It was in a quiet area in the country, surrounded by trees. As they entered the building, in front of them was the body of what had been identified as a male, the body had started to rot and the stench was horrendous. John had to swallow hard and close his eyes to stop himself being sick. They were met by Lestrade further into the hall. The team were getting ready to start their work after Sherlock had investigated the body.

Sherlock felt the colour start to drain from his face. He quickly managed to shake himself together. He quietly approached the body, avoiding Lestrade who was already talking to John. He began to examine the mans shoes first, the make, where they were from, how long he had been wearing them. He got a few things from that straight away. Banker, Married once but not anymore. Then he moved on to the fingers...

Sherlock stopped, straightening up. "I'm just going outside for a moment" Sherlock murmured

"What for?" Lestrade asked, getting a bit too close to Sherlock for comfort. Sherlock turned away from the shorter man "To think"

John decided to follow Sherlock outside, any chance for some fresh air... Once outside, John picked that moment to start talking about the fridge "Sherlock, about that fridge, Mrs Hudson said-" John was cut off by Sherlock suddenly projectile vomiting on to the floor, narrowly missing his own shoes.

"Oh my god... are you ok?" John placed his hand on to Sherlock's back, however this was apparently an unwelcome gesture since it cause Sherlock to heave once more, only bringing up a bit of spit.

"What the hell" john turned to find Sally standing behind them, who had come out for a fag. Sally turned and went back inside, probably to tell someone.

John re-entered the building to find Lestrade standing next to sally, who was clearly telling him what had happened.

Lestrade approached John, looking concerned "John is he ok?"

"Er yeah, he's been having these headaches, I assume it's just to do with that." John explained

Lestrade sighed "Well if he needs to go its fine, we can take it from here"

John was surprised at Lestrade's understanding and left to re-join Sherlock outside who was sitting on the bench outside the door. "Ok, you're alright, was it the body?"

Sherlock didn't respond

John tapped his fingers on his knee "You don't look very well, do you still feel sick?"

Sherlock nodded briefly "I'm just feeling dizzy, leave me for the moment I'll be fine in a minute"

John wondered whether he should ask again, but decided to go for it. "Was it the body?"

Sherlock sighed "Bodies don't bother me John, I'm fine...John I need to get back to the flat"

John started at Sherlock in pure shock... Sherlock admitting he felt ill and wanting to come away form a case?

"Are you sure?" John asked, now very worried.

Sherlock nodded and held his head in his hands

John returned once more inside the building to give Lestrade the news

"Listen, were gonna head off Sherlock's not feeling too good"

"Is he ok?" Lestrade asked again, still looking concerned

"I think he's alright, he just needs to go back to bed, word of warning he was sick near the door... not that its any worse than..." John gestured towards the body

"Give me a call John" There was a look of seriousness in Lestrade's eyes

"Will do!" John replied

John re-joined Sherlock outside and frowned "What's up with you?"

John hard Sherlock's stomach growl underneath his coat "Nothing, John honestly I just feel sick I need to get home... it's from my head... this morning"

John nodded "I'm calling a cab" John pulled out his phone "How do you feel now?"

Sherlock tried to sit up straight "My stomach hurts"

...

On the way home, Sherlock spent the entire journey hunched up in the corner of the cab, John was concerned. Never had he ever seen Sherlock complain of feeling ill before, let alone agreeing to leave a case to go back to bed.

* * *

A few weeks later and Sherlock had taken up a different case, the headaches seemed to have gone and so had the sickness. John as at home in bed when his phone started ringing.

John groaned and looked at the time. 8am. He fumbled for his phone to see who was calling. It was Lestrade.

"Hello?" John's voice was hoarse

"John I think you need to come to St Barts"

"Why what's happened?" John sat up rubbing his eyes

"It's Sherlock"

"What's happened?" John asked again sitting bolt upright

"He just collapsed we've called an ambulance"

"Oh my god, I'll be right over" John hung up and flung himself out of bed, nearly falling as his leg hadn't woken up yet.

Lestrade closed his phone, he was kneeling on the floor next to Sherlock. Sally had helped him remove the detectives coat to give him some air. Sherlock had started to come round, it wasn't much but at least it was a sign of life.

* * *

After hurriedly dressing and getting into a cab, John rushed to St Barts and found Lestrade in the entrance

"Lestrade!" John called

"Ah John thank god, I don't know what happened, he was talking to me and he just, fell into me... the paramedics aid they don't think its anything serious, but they might keep him in. If you wait here they will call you, I gave them your name..." Lestrade explained

"What you're not staying?" John asked looking confused

"Er, my wife, she's not well I need to get back to her..." Lestrade frowned

"Oh god, bad news all round then... no no of course get going" John reassured him

There was a short silence before Lestrade said "You call me when you know more, I need to get back"

John nodded and sat on the small bench, this felt like it was going to be a long wait.


	2. chapter 2

**I might have some of the medical info wrong, but hey, this is a man having a baby, if that's possible then everything else should be, lol.**

* * *

It had been a few days since Sherlock had been admitted to hospital, they had ended up keeping him in for a few days.

John pulled up outside the hospital in the cab, he looked up at the tall building before paying the driver and getting out. He sighed before walking in through the main entrance to reception. He arrived at the desk to be greeted by a smiley receptionist.

"I'm here to collect Sherlock Holmes?"

"Name please?" Asked the pretty red haired receptionist.

"John Watson" John fiddled with his coat sleeves, shifting from one foot to another as she flicked through some paperwork.

"Ok Mr Watson I'll just take you though, he has changed rooms since you were last here."

Sherlock had been in hospital for a few days resting. John hadn't got much information on what was wrong yet.

John followed the woman through another set of doors until they came to another little reception desk at the entrance to the ward. John sighed as he waited for her to collect Sherlock's discharge forms. He looked around the corridor, there was a little old man sitting in a wheelchair with a drip attached to his arm. John smiled at him, but got little response. Just then she came back to him with the paperwork.

"Right I have Mr Holmes's discharge forms here, you will have to wait with him until a doctor comes to sign them."

John nodded and followed her to the cubical where Sherlock was staying, it was single private room, pale blue walls, checkered pull round curtain, and a window that looked out onto the roof and main A&E entrance.

Sherlock was standing looking out of the window, back in his usual clothes; white shirt and black trousers. Atleast he was up and dressed, it made a change from yesterday when he had arrived to find him vomiting onto the floor beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" asked John, placing the forms on the bed.

"Hm? Oh better... thanks" Sherlock continued to stare out of the window at the patients walking in and out of A&E

"What have the Doctors said?" asked John, approaching Sherlock from behind, trying to get some eye contact.

"Nothing much, they had a few theories, non of which made much sense" Sherlock replied, still looking away from John.

John knew he should stop asking, he knew he wouldn't get much else out of him, at least for now.. He decided to concentrate on getting the man home and resting, it was all he could do for the time being...

After waiting for what seemed like a lifetime for the doctor to come and sign the forms, John got Sherlock into a cab and they started their journey home

John looked towards Sherlock who was sitting to the left of him in the cab. He had gone very quiet, gazing out of the window.

...

When the pair got home John was relieved to be back, he kicked off his shoes before turning to see where Sherlock was. To his surprise he had only just gotten up the stairs.

"Oh sorry Sherlock I thought you were behind me..." John frowned

Sherlock waited until he had closed the door behind him before answering "I just felt a bit dizzy, I'm alright I just need to rest"

John looked on as Sherlock went to lie down in his bedroom, closing the door. He decided to leave him to it, at least he was agreeing to rest.

* * *

Later the same day, John was sitting watching some late night TV, when he heard Sherlock's bedroom door click open. He snapped his head round to look at him.

"Are you feeling ok?" John asked, worried

Sherlock still looked tired, even though he had been asleep for a few hours. "I'm just feeling tired, I'll be fine in the morning"

John nodded "Maybe you should go back to bed soon... Do you want some tea? food? I'll get you anything you want"

Sherlock appeared to be thinking through his response before answering. "John I haven't been entirely honest with you, since you are obviously going to have to be involved you are going to find out at some point"

John put down his paper and gave Sherlock his full attention "What do you mean"

Sherlock didn't reply

"Sherlock what's wrong, you need to tell me" John set his paper down on the table

Sherlock appeared to be taking his time breathing. "I'm pregnant"

John tilted his head backwards slightly, lips trying to move "Sorry, What?"

Sherlock came and sat down opposite John picking up the paper "You heard me fine"

John leaned forward "Sherlock how can you get pregnant, I'm not sure you even know what sex is"

Sherlock glared back at him "I had unprotected sex, I got pregnant, I didn't look after myself and became ill... I'm 8 weeks"

John stared at him for a moment "Oh and that's it is it... I mean... 8 weeks?" John took a look at Sherlock's purple shirt wrapped tightly around his flat stomach.

Sherlock started to flick through the paper, relaxing back into the sofa "Yes"

John rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands. "Are you alright"

Sherlock sunk back into the sofa "I'm fine John"

"What was wrong, why did you end up in hospital? What... when.. I mean how..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he was hit with a thousand questions

"There are some things I prefer to keep to myself John I hope you understand" Sherlock turned the page of the newspaper

John sighed "Fine, no. Is there anything you want me to do?"

Sherlock stopped reading, put the paper down, and rubbed his mouth with his hand. "No, no there isn't. Well what can you do?"

John gave him a concerned smile, before leaning forward even more to squeeze Sherlock's knee briefly. "I'm here if you need me don't worry"


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock had been having a hard pregnancy and it was taking its toll on his body.

At 10 weeks he had already had a stay in hospital, collapsed twice, back ache, what felt like almost constant sickness, 2 colds and bad headaches. He had also gained 8lbs which he wasn't too chuffed about. John had been doing his best to help him, but there was only so much he could do. He had managed to get Sherlock to register with a new doctor and had made him attend two scans.

On this particular day, Sherlock was shuffling around the apartment miserably just shaking off another cold, waiting for John to come back with some food. He didn't know what to do with himself, his mind felt almost blank at times. Sherlock almost sighed with relief when he heard keys opening the door downstairs, signifying Johns return. He needed some human conversation or he was going to go mad. All of a sudden, Sherlock realised he couldn't feel his fingers, he tried tapping them on the counter, but nothing, then his head started to feel fuzzy, he couldn't hear anything, his legs...

John was just on his way up stairs with the shopping when he heard a thump.

"oh god not again" John groaned as he heaved the bags into the flat before rushing to Sherlock who was now lying on the floor.

"Come on you, wake up" John managed to pull Sherlock onto his side incase he was sick again. "Come on... Sherlock!"

Sherlock started to stir, bringing his hand to his face.

"You alright? Come on lets get you up"

Sherlock grunted as John pulled him up onto a chair. He could feel the sensation rapidly returning to his legs and fingers and his vision started to clear.

"Its because you haven't eaten yet isn't it?" John asked

Sherlock didn't reply

"Sherlock you need to start taking this seriously, the baby needs you to eat...Im going to make you some toast OK?"

Sherlock shrugged.

John sighed and went off into the kitchen. He started to get a plate and some bread out when Sherlock called him back to him.

"John"

John returned to Sherlock's side "What?"

"I- No, sorry its nothing"

"Are you sure?"

Sherlock nodded rubbing his face, grateful to have the feeling back in his hands

John returned to making Sherlock his food.

All Sherlock wanted to do was talk, he didn't know what about, but all he knew was he was feeling lonely. He didn't usually struggle like this on his own, he liked the quiet, it gave him time to think. He was sick of all these changes, they were very unwelcome. he couldn't work, he couldn't get through a day without some ailment popping up. He was sick of all of it, he had this money saved up, he didn't know what for, but now that was all going to go on the baby. It just all felt very inconvenient.

* * *

18 weeks

Sherlock had started to go back to work. 8 weeks on and his bump was really starting to show, it was still very small, but very round. He had even let Molly feel the one time. His symptoms had started to subside and he was feeling better. Molly had been looking after him at work and was watching what he ate and reporting back to John.

"Molly?" Sherlock called from where he sat in the lab, writing some notes

Molly hurried into the lab to see what was wrong

"So he is the killer then its obvious" Sherlock stated, unsure as to why Molly looked so confused.

Molly paused before saying "Sherlock, Mr Dawson was the one who was killed"

"What?" Sherlock asked her, feeling himself going blank.

"Mr Dawson is our victim"

"Oh, yes, no I know that. Molly leave me for a moment please"

"Sherlock..." Molly started to approach him

"Molly please"

Molly nodded and left Sherlock to it. After she had left, she bravely managed to peek back through the window in the door to the lab. She was startled at what she saw. Sherlock sat on the floor, back against the counter, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, eyes closed. Molly decided to phone John.

Sherlock sat in the silence of the lab, still on the floor. His hand hovered over his small bump, considering giving it a poke, when he started to feel fluttering thumps in his chest. He groaned and tried to calm down. It carried on for another minute or two, the thumps were getting harder and hurt a little. Then as soon as they had began, they stopped. He sighed, tilting his head back, looking up towards the ceiling.

...

"He's been feeling ill he's going to make mistakes, half his mind occupied by the baby all the time" John argued, on the phone to Molly

Molly tried to find the right words. "But its not just a small mistake, he spent hours working on research before figuring out that Mr Dawson was the killer."

"So?" John asked

"Well" Molly paused "Mr Dawson was the victim, he was the one who we needed to find the killer for"

There was silence on the other end of the phone before John replied "Oh jesus..."

* * *

John was sitting anxiously awaiting Sherlock's return when he heard the door unlock.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock placed his keys quietly in the small bowl by the door before letting himself lean against the wall.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

John jumped from his chair to get to his side. "What's wrong?

"My head john..." Sherlock slurred

"Ok, come on." John helped Sherlock into his bedroom, he removed his coat for him and helped him lie down

As soon as Sherlock's head sunk into the pillow he felt a wave of relief as the pressure soothed his headache.

"Alright, ill get some water"

Just as john started to run the tap, his phone buzzed, it was Lestrade

_Is Sherlock ok? He seemed unwell before he went home early, Greg_

John stared at the text for a moment, confused, before replying.

_He's ok, he's lying down, i think its his head. Sorry, but how do you know he was unwell? when did you see him? , John_

_I came to check on him, he hasn't been answering my calls, Greg_

John rolled his eyes before replying

_Oh, alright yeah he's fine, ill tell him to call you back_

_Thanks John. _Greg replied

John shook his head, not thinking anything of it and looked towards Sherlock's room. John opened the door as quietly as he could, he was buried under his sheets, head deep in the pillows, Curtains drawn, a frown across his brow.

John watched Sherlock for a few more moments before approaching him. He squeezed the dark haired mans shoulder.

"Sherlock" john whispered

A long groan came from within the pillows as Sherlock stirred.

"Sherlock what's wrong?" John was growing concerned

"My head." Sherlock managed to croak from under the covers.

"Ill get you a paracetamol" As john turned to leave, he felt himself being tugged back. He looked down to find Sherlock's long pale fingers clinging to his sleeve. John sighed and knelt next to the bed, resting his elbows on the mattress.

"Sherlock what do you need?"

"My head john..." Sherlock moaned

"I know, i know, its alright" john brushed his fingers against Sherlock's forrid, he felt very warm. "But you need to take something"

Sherlock managed a brief mmm of approval, before raising himself upright , he looked awful.

"Urh John i feel sick"

John managed to grab his waste bin before Sherlock belched, Bringing up a small amount of vomit. Sherlock caught his breath and pressed his hand into his stomach.

"I can't do this." Sherlock moaned

"What?" john asked, placing the bin back on the floor.

"This!" Sherlock bellowed, ignoring the pain in his head. "this fucking mess I'm in now, i don't want a bloody baby I've got no use for one. Its ridiculous! I'm fucking Sherlock Holmes i cant go to crime scenes with a baby strapped to my chest!"

Johns face froze. He didn't know what to say. "Your just saying that because you feel unwell."

"No John, i don't want to be a father, i don't want the baby, i want to get rid of it. I don't know why i haven't before now. Stupid stupid hormones trying to convince me this was the right thing to do..."

"Sherlock you can't, you're too far along" John explained

"I don't care, i don't want it in my life it will just be a burden. I have never wanted a child its just a bloody set back, even if its adopted it will come looking for me one day."

John felt himself start to tense up "Well its not the baby's fault if its dad has unprotected sex and wont face the consequences."

Sherlock slowly turned his head towards john

John continued "you've been going on and on about how much the baby is affecting you and how the situation is shit for you, but have you not once thought about how bad it will be for the baby? Knowing it's dad doesn't give a shit?"

"John, do you not think there isn't a day that goes by when i wish it never happened?

"Oh yes, you have made that perfectly clear" John paused "It hasn't exactly been an easy ride for me either, or Molly, or Lestrade. You talk about the baby being a burden but what about you!"

Sherlock turned his head to face the wall. He hadn't got anything to say.

"Sherlock im sorry, i didn't mean that, im sorry"

John gazed at Sherlock for a moment, feeling an enormous bulk of guilt start to build in his stomach. He turned, looking back at Sherlock, and went to get the painkillers.

Sherlock almost felt abandoned. He felt an overwhelming heat emotion build up in his chest, before he knew it, he was sobbing.

John was on his way back to the bedroom when he heard the sobbing, his heart shattered into prices, how could he have said those things? He knocked on The door, painkillers in his left hand. "Sherlock, I've got your painkillers" john let himself in when he got no reply. He found Sherlock buried under the covers again. He placed the pills next to the bed, before leaving him on his own. He sighed heavily after he was out of the room face in his hands. What had he done.

* * *

_The next day_

John stirred his spoon in the remains of tea left in his cup.

"Mycroft, i said something terrible to him, I don't think i can take it back."

Mycroft sat back in his chair

"John we all do sometimes, in time he will be fine. He probably needed it, whatever it was."

John placed the spoon down on the table

"I'm worried about his head, not just the headaches, about how he feels."

"John i assure you, he'll be fine. Don't worry." Mycroft was doing his best to reassure John for the entire hour they had been in the cafe

John sighed and nodded "Well I better get back to him... See if he's ok"

John got up to leave the cafe the pair had met up in.

Mycroft sat there to think for a short while after John had left, before deciding. He needed to see his brother.

* * *

Sherlock returned to the flat after another day at work to find John waiting for him on the sofa

Sherlock turned to go to his room before John called to him

."Sherlock i have to talk to you"

Sherlock groaned "John i don't want to hear it. People say things when their frustrated, not always things they mean, i know that. Just leave it."

Sherlock went to go to his room when suddenly his hand shot to clutch his stomach.

"Sherlock?" John got up and walked over to him

John examined Sherlock's face, his hand holding his belly. John's hand joined Sherlock's on his bump. He felt a hard kick. Sherlock screwed his eyes shut.

"Oh Sherlock.. Come on sit down" John led Sherlock to the sofa and made sure Sherlock was comfortable, before asking, "Was that the first time?"

"No, no. I've been feeling movements for a while."

"He's probably had enough of you slagging him off all the time..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes sinking back into the sofa.

"Hey come on" John raised his eyebrow

Sherlock looked at john, he didn't look amused

Sherlock straightened up slightly. "i er, i went to the doctor today, he had the results of my scan."

John looked confused "what, of the baby?"

Sherlock shuffled a bit in his seat "No, of my heart."

"What?" john exclaimed, looking alarmed

"They did a scan of my chest and the pregnancy has put strain on my heart, it isn't beating normally. They said if i was any earlier they would have suggested termination. But since I've gotten this far i should be ok. Brought on by stress..." Sherlock explained

John stared at him, not sure what to say.

"It is going to affect me until the baby is born, and ... it will be high risk, they suggest a cesarean." Sherlock paused "which of course i wont be having, i want a natural labour, i wont need any healing time afterwards... I can get back to work sooner. They said i can do it as long as i am monitored afterwards"

John closed his eyes "Sherlock I'm so sorry"

"Don't be" Sherlock tried a weak smile

Next thing he knew, Sherlock found johns arms wrapped around him. Holding him close. Sherlock sighed as John released him.

just then Sherlock realised something, John had refered to the baby as.. "John? Why did you call my baby a he? You said _he's_ sick of me slagging him off"

"Oh, um" john looked uncomfortable "when i was reading your notes after your scan, because you didn't seem bothered, i saw that it had been identified as a boy. Sorry i didn't mean for it to slip out..."

Sherlock paused for a moment to think. He hadn't really thought about the baby's sex yet. He was going to have a son. He was snapped out of his thought as he felt John squeeze his shoulder.

"I will always be hear for you Sherlock. Whenever you need me"

* * *

At 27 weeks.

After john had gone out, Sherlock sunk back into the sofa. He had become increasingly tired and grouchy over the past few weeks, his bump was now quite big and moving about was hard. He slouched heavily, one hand on his bump.

when his phone beeped , signifying a text. He heaved himself up from where he was sitting, one hand holding under his bump. he grabbed his phone from the table and squinted to read the text.

_Can we talk? I am outside. MH_

What do you want Mycroft... Sherlock thought to himself.

_Come up. SH_

Since when did Mycroft ask to be invited in? Sherlock didn't have much time to ponder over it before there was a knock at the door.

Sherlock made his way over to the door, pulling it open and inviting his brother in.

"I would offer you a drink but i cant stand the smell of tea..."

"no no, that's perfectly fine, I've only came for a quick chat." Mycroft flickered between a smile and a frown, he couldn't seem to make up his mind which was more appropriate.

"what about exactly?" Sherlock asked, breaking the silence.

Mycroft seemed uncomfortable, he shifted where he stood, not being able to look Sherlock properly in the eye.

Sherlock received a hard kick from the baby causing him to wince.

"what?" Mycroft asked, looking concerned

"Nothing I'm fine..er.." Sherlock gestured for Mycroft to follow him into the sitting area.

Sherlock settled himself back down into the arm chair opposite Mycroft. One hand under his bump. Feeling the baby wriggle against the walls of his stomach. He was wearing his silk dressing gown, black t-shirt and his grey pyjama bottoms.

"What was it you had to talk to me about? Sherlock asked. Tapping his fingers on his bump."

Mycroft took his time before answering.

"I wanted you to know, that i am here for you if you need me. If you ever need anything... Help, support, money..."

Sherlock nodded

As Sherlock sat there, taking in the silence, he felt the baby moving vigarously inside the walls of his stomach. He had noticed that Mycroft seemed to be hell-bent ln steeling glances of his bump.

"Mycroft"

Mycroft snapped his glance away from Sherlock's belly to look him in the eye. Sherlock said nothing, bit instead gestured for his brothers hand. Mycroft hesitated, he wasn't sure what to do.

"Come on" Sherlock gestured again for his hand.

Mycroft croaked slightly, before rising from his chair, letting Sherlock take his hand and press it into his bump.

To Sherlock's surprise, Mycroft sunk to his knees beside where Sherlock sat, feeling his u born nephew kick the palm of his hand.

"Are you alright?" Asked Mycroft, looking him in the eye, hand still positioned firmly on Sherlock's stomach

"I'm fine, I've got a heart condition which is why I'm stuck in the flat. Nothing to be concerned about. And its a boy"

Just then, they heard keys in the door, John walked in throwing his keys into the counter. He stood in shock at what he saw before him. Mycroft on his KNEES. One hand pressed into Sherlock's stomach.

John fought not to let his mouth drop open. "Er, sorry, ill just" John went to leave the flat, but Mycroft stopped him.

"No need John, I was just leaving" Mycroft raised from the floor

Sherlock's belly felt strangely cold where Mycroft's hand had left. He closed his eyes as he heard John start babbling on about something to Mycroft by the door. He was sick if not knowing how to feel.

All Sherlock wanted to do was talk to John. He felt so lonely since he wasn't able to work at the moment. He knew that there were emotions going on with him that he hadn't ever felt before. He knew he was worried about the fact that he felt devastated al the time. It wasn't healthy for him and he knew it, he knew it was the reason he kept passing out, all the stress wasn't good for him. He knew he didn't care about whether it affected the baby or not, in fact he hoped it did, deep down. He didn't want the baby. He just wished non of it had ever happened, drunken sex with Lestrade was never the plan, but things got out of hand, and here he was..

Sherlock screwed his eyes shut as he received another batch of movements from the baby.

He remember how it all happened, he himself was drunk of course, so was Lestrade, but he had his self control and awareness, why hadn't he done anything to stop it. He had never experienced true sexual pleasure before. As Lestrade had started performing oral sex on him, he couldn't do anything but freeze, every muscle in his body frozen solid, unable to move, His head was saying punch the guy, this is wrong its sick... but inside he wanted him to carry on, it felt too good, part of it felt right. All he could do was sit there groaning helplessly in the cab, fingers entangled in Lestrade's hair. What happened after that was all a blur, but he knew that he had sex, he remembered the pain at first, and the pure pleasure afterwards. He couldn't remember seeing Lestrade on top of him, but he knew he was there, he kept talking to him, he heard his voice in his ear.

Sherlock turned his head as he heard the flat door close behind Mycroft, leaving just him and John alone in the flat.

"Are you warm enough Sherlock" John asked from the kitchen"

Sherlock nodded, before he remembers john couldn't see him "Er yeah!" Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Bit of a surprise visit?" John called again

"Oh er, yeah" Sherlock mumbled

John put down the plate he was holding before coming over, "Are you ok? You seem a but distant.

"Yes, I'm fine" Sherlock replied bluntly

John nodded and wanderd off again.

Sherlock closed his eyes, before whipping out his phone. Hovering over Lestrade's number.


	4. Chapter 4

**I move to University in a few days to start my medical degree, so if there is a slow rate of updates in future stories, that is why. I updated the first chapter since it was a tad crap, enjoy :) its longer more detail. Better.**

**Also I have decided Sherlock will have a cervix in this story, lucky him. normal cock and balls, but with a cervix up in there and he will just tear or something when it comes out. Gotta have a good old cervix... I don't know whether there was a certain anatomy that people who read these prefer, but its a man producing a foetus what more d'ya want lol :) x x**

* * *

In Sherlock's bedroom, on Sherlock's bed, Greg lay between Sherlock's legs, his legs thrown over his shoulders, cock thumping deep inside of him, over and over again. Sherlock moaned almost screaming out as he was hit by wave after wave of hot pleasure. Both men were sweating, moaning, clawing at each other.

"Agh, Sherlock I'm gonna cum, i cant take anymore." Greg grunted into Sherlock's ear

Lestrade ejaculated deep inside Sherlock, fingers entangled in Sherlock's hair, face deep in his neck, kissing, biting, groaning out his name over and over. The sight of Greg's face screwed up in ecstasy was enough to send Sherlock spinning out of control, a hard shot of cum hit Greg's belly and chin as Sherlock came hard, rolling in the waves of please that made his brain blank, but it just felt so hot... "Greg!"

Sherlock was awoken suddenly by a bout of hard kicks by the baby. He raised himself up on his elbows, looking around the dimly sunlit room. It was the fourth Lestrade dream he had experienced since getting pregnant. He grumbled at the hard kicks that were thumping behind his belly button. He looked at his clock, 4:50am. He groaned, he couldn't stay in bed anymore, he had to get up.

His thoughts soon turned back to Greg, why was he enjoying it in the dream, the orgasm had felt so real, he even half expected to see semen splashed over his own chest. His legs felt like jelly, even though he was lying down. He took a while to get himself to sit on the edge of the bed, before decided he needed John , he couldn't get up.

Shortly after calling for him, John came into the room looking worried. "John, please, i cant get up my legs wont work"

John smiled sympathetically at the detective, moving closer to help him up. "My god your pot's grown." John remarked without thinking. It had been almost 4 months since he had last seen Sherlock's bump naked. It looked different with no tshirt covering it. He observed the faint brown line that stretched vertically down the centre through his belly button.

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh "My pot? Is that what you're calling it now?".

John smiled sheepishly " Well it is, you've got a pot with a baby in it"

"indeed" Sherlock replied, raising his eyebrow "one that likes to get me up at this time"

John looked confused.

Sherlock rolled his eyes "Go on" Sherlock gestured with his eyes towards his 'pot'. John held Sherlock's stomach with both hands. immediately he felt how hard the baby's kicks were.

John blew out his cheeks. "I never want to give birth or carry a baby, I'd take Afghanistan i think"

"Join the club" Sherlock mumbled

John hooked Sherlock's left arm around his neck, so he could help him to stand. It just about worked.

"What's wrong are you Ok? You've not had this trouble before" John asked concerned

"I'm fine I just had an odd dream, I've just woken up" Sherlock explained

"Ah, alright then"

* * *

6:40am

It was still early in the morning since Sherlock had been forced out of bed by the baby's demands, so had taken refuge with a blanket in one of the arm chairs, drifting in and out of sleep. John came to check on him, Sherlock was still slumped under a blanket, asleep with both hands wrapped around his stomach.

"Sherlock? Are you alright for me to head out to work? I've got another shift at the clinic" John asked as he was already putting his coat on to go out

"Yeah, sure whatever" Sherlock hoarsely murmured

John moved a bit closer to him "Sherlock are you listening to me? I'll be gone for a few hours ill see if I can get off early to come and help you"

"With what" Sherlock again, blankly replied

John walked over to Sherlock and crouched in front of him "Hey, wake up, talk to me" John gave him a concerned smile before pressing both hands onto his bump, giving it a slow gentle rub, he felt the baby kicking against his palms. This at least seemed to wake Sherlock up a bit from his daze. He squirmed at the baby turning inside of him, a very unwelcome sensation.

"Are you with us your majesty?" John smirked

"Piss off John I'm tired" Sherlock moaned, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"Oh right, well, excuse me for giving a crap" John snapped, turning to leave for work.

Sherlock sighed "John, John I'm sorry, please, go to work you need the money, I'll be fine. Ever since I hit 30 weeks I feel rat arsed all the time..."

John smirked again "What? You feel drunk?"

Sherlock sifted in his chair trying to get comfortable. "Yeah, I mean.. I don't know"

"Well you sound bloody out of it... I can't leave you when your like that you'll set the flat on fire" John joked, but only half-joking

Sherlock stretched as best he could and yawned "Mrs Hudson's downstairs this morning... I'll be fine"

John shuffled from foot to foot, not sure what to do, as soon as he left he knew he would worry senseless about him, too much to concentrate.

Sherlock picked up on Johns anxiety "John just go you need the money, I've got my phone, text me if your that worried"

Sherlock was right, he could just keep texting him to make sure he was ok... John rolled his eyes "Alright, promise me you'll reply, because you never do."

"Yes John" He waved his phone in the air

"Ok then, well see you later, I'll try to get off early like I said" John left,closing the door behind him.

"John!" Sherlock called after him

He heard keys in the door trying to get back in, "You couldn't have called before I locked myself out?"

Sherlock bit his lip... "Thankyou"

John stopped, his face softened, he smiled at Sherlock and nodded, before leaving once more to go to work.

Sherlock sunk back into the silence, once again, a day alone, just him and the bump. Great...

Sure enough, only a few minutes after John had left, his phone buzzed. He chuckled as he read the text he had received from John - _Are you Ok?_

_ Fine, however you woke him up when you rubbed my 'pot', as you chose to refer to it, he won't stop kicking - SH_

_Seconds later came another text - Sorry about that_

Sherlock frowned, he was flattered by the amount of care John showed him, he wished he could show it back. He was soon distracted by his son giving his kidney a thump. "Oh stop that!" Sherlock snapped. He waited for the kicking to stop before he tried again to relax. He had considered phoning Lestrade earlier, but soon decided against it. What would he be phoning him for? _Hey baby how was your day?_ Lestrade had already come to see him weeks ago at the lab anyway, it was when he first told him he was pregnant, it was what caused him to make the mistake with Mr Dawson. Just the though of carrying Lestrade's baby made his skin crawl, what if he looked like him? However, he had to involve him if he wanted to be. Maybe it would be a good thing? Maybe could put some financial cost towards things... The feelings were still the same, he didn't want it, he had no desire to ever have a family. So why did he keep it? He kept convincing himself that it was the hormones that changed the way he thinks. But really, there was a part of him that wasn't entirely devastated about it. He hated the bonding most of all, when he felt the baby wriggle, it tugged at his heart strings, but then afterwards he would just find it annoying again.

* * *

8:40am

Sherlock lounged back into the arm-chair facing out of the window. His violin and bow down the left side of his stomach. He was going to play, but he hadn't got the energy anymore. The baby started kicking again, he groaned as the urge to urinate grew stronger, the baby's head pressing down on his already past-full bladder. He couldn't be bothered to move. Another wriggle from the baby made his mind up for him, admitting defeat, he heaved himself up to go to the bathroom, nearly pissing himself.

Sherlock washed his hands and splashed his face with cool water, he was sick of all these hot flushes. He looked up at his face in the bathroom mirror, examining the lines across his forehead. He was thirty-seven years old, he was too old for this.

Suddenly he was hit by an intense wave of pain, gripping the bathroom counter hard, a harsh cramp rang through his lower abdomen and back. He cried out, praying for John to appear out of nowhere and be there for him. He held his breath, waiting for the pain to stop. Sherlock gasped as the pain lifted, his knees buckling underneath him.

He found himself panicking, he was on his own, had he gone into labour? He was 10 weeks early how could he be in labour? He gingerly made his way back to his chair and picked up his phone to get John, but he was stopped by another cramp, the phone fell from his hand, fingers digging into the back of the chair. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of the babies head wriggling and rotating against his cervix.

"Uugghhhhhhhhh!" Sherlock groaned loudly. There was only one thing he could do... "MRS HUDSON!" Sherlock bellowed through the apartment

Almost immediately he heard her hurrying up the stairs. Whilst he waited for her to come up the stairs he felt his heart start to go crazy, thumping like a rabbit on a high. This was it, the baby was coming, and he was on his own and he was going to die of heart failure!

"Sherlock what's wrong? I'm here don't worry" Mrs Hudson dashed into the apartment in her dressing gown and hurried over to him, slipping an arm round his waist. "Sherlock? Tell me what's wrong? Sit down come on"

"He's coming" Sherlock managed to strain the words out through gritted teeth as the contraction faded away

"Oh sweetheart! I'll call an ambulance right away"

"No, phone John, please" Sherlock begged

Sherlock handed Mrs Hudson his phone before wrapping both hands around his bump, all he wanted to do was cry, but his body wouldn't let him. Instead, he squeezed his stomach even tighter. He could feel himself losing control, going limp. Mrs Hudson squeezed his shoulder as pressed call, before proceeding to rub his lower back.

It only took seconds for John to answer the phone "Sherlock look I'm just with a patient-"

John was cut off by a frantic Mrs Hudson "John, you have to come home, Sherlock's having contractions"

Johns face froze as he heard Sherlock's moans of discomfort in the background.

* * *

John rushed into the apartment, looking truly terrified, he rushed towards Sherlock and held his hand. "John!" Sherlock desperately called

"Its alright, what are you feeling?" The grip on Johns hand tightened

"Contractions" Sherlock strained

"Ok, let me feel" He put both hands on the detectives belly "Your waters haven't broken have they?" John asked

"No, no, it just hurts" Sherlock moaned

"And you don't feel like you need to push?"

Sherlock shook his head weakly

"I think you're having Braxton hick contractions, they're normal at this stage. Don't worry you'll be fine, I'll stay with you for the rest of the day and see if you have any more"

"I'm not in labour?"

"No, no baby today" John kept his one hand resting on top of Sherlock's stomach to try and comfort him.

Sherlock suddenly felt very stupid, he had made such a fuss over practice contractions? He suddenly felt blank, he didn't know where to look, what to say...

"Oo, John." Sherlock grunted as another one began

"Another one? Ok, try to control your breathing, How's your heart holding up?" John squeezed Sherlock's hand, Rubbing his lower back roughly with the other.

"I can feel it doing things is shouldn't" Sherlock heart was still fluttering away inside his chest.

John looked up at Mrs Hudson, both faces full of concern "I'll phone the doctor and let him know"

* * *

_2 days later_

Mrs Hudson was tidying her flat when she heard a knock at the flat door. She pulled off her gloves and made her way to the door. She opened it to find Lestrade standing there. "Can i help you dear?"

"Er yeah, Hi I'm here to see Sherlock?" Lestrade shuffled nervously from one foot to the other.

"No need to look so nervous dear, I assure you he's fine" Mrs Hudson assumed Greg had been told about the recent event.

"What?" Greg asked, clearly confused

"Oh with the contractions he had on Tuesday, turned out to be nothing" Mrs Hudson disappeared back into her flat "Oh go on up dear they wont mind"

Sherlock had decided to see if his trousers still fit, they did, but he couldn't fasten them. He was wearing another grey stretchy t-shirt, he wasn't even going to bother trying one of his shirts.

"Sherlock?" John called

"What?" Sherlock was busy fiddling with his trousers

"Um, Lestrade's here to see you"

Sherlock suddenly felt sick, he slipped into the bathroom before the other two men could reach him. He hung over the toilet, taking deep breaths, trying not to throw up.

"Maybe I should come back another time" Lestrade suggested

John called through the bathroom door "Sherlock are you Ok? Greg's just turned up he wants to talk to you. I need to head off out to the bank, I'll be about half an hour. Greg will be here alright?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, "Fine" he gasped

After a few minutes after hearing John leave, Sherlock emerged from the bathroom it had been months since he had last seen Greg face to face.

The two men looked at each other for what seemed like the longest moment ever. Greg seemed a bit nervous around Sherlock's bump, it had grown a fair bit since he last saw him. He barely had one at all before.

Greg approached Sherlock cautiously. Getting closer and closer, until they were nose to nose.

Sherlock felt his cock fatten up inside his trousers as he felt Lestrade's breath on his own lips. He had to swallow a groan as Lestrade slipped his hand round his waist, placing the other one on his bump. The baby kicked Lestrade's palm a few times, he hadn't felt this before, he wasn't sure what to say. Greg pressed a soft kiss into Sherlock's lips, before pulling back.

"I'm sorry. I really am." Greg started

"Why are you doing this?" Sherlock asked, looking down at him softly

"I'm sorry" he repeated.

"Greg..." Sherlock croaked as Lestrade pulled him closer to him, bump pressing into his stomach.

Lestrade gazed into Sherlock's eyes for a moment, pulling out of the embrace. "I love my wife."

"Then why did you come here?" Sherlock tried to sound blunt, but his emotions failed him miserably

Greg thought through his answer carefully "Because I love you too"

Sherlock scoffed "No you don't, you love the idea of me carrying a baby for you, but you don't love me"

"Then why did I have sex with you?" Lestrade took a step closer

"Because you saw I was vulnerable and you fancied a shag" Sherlock replied, this time managed to sound how he wanted.

"I didn't hear you complaining, in fact as far as I can remember you were doing the exact... opposite" Greg brushed Sherlock's lips with his own, he noticed the outline of Sherlock's hardening cock through his trousers.

"Look, this isn't why I came here, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. I do have feelings for you, I always have done, but... It got out of control, we were both drunk." Lestrade paused "Well first of all are you alright, the land lady said something about contractions?"

"Nothing, no it was nothing... I'd like you to leave, please"

"Sherlock, please we can't just avoid each other, that's my baby too"

"Well you have him then, I have never wanted him, you're right he's your son too, not just mine!"

"Son?" Lestrade asked, looking a little dumbstruck

"I'm sorry, who's son?!"

Both startled men swung round to see John standing in the door way, he looked horrified

"I just came back because I forgot my bank card..."


End file.
